'Time Warped

Bad Religion, a 22-year-old band from Southern California with a crossed-out cross as a logo and a stern doctorate-level zoologist as a singer, headlines this year's Warped Tour. Gametime, a group of less-than-22-year-olds from Kansas City with a penchant for rocking out in churches and an impossibly jovial frontman, will share Verizon Amphitheater parking-lot space with the melodic-hardcore heathens on Thursday, June 27. Gametime even has an ally of sorts in MXPX, a onetime church-circuit act turned crossover success story that has been scorned in some circles because of its "We're Christian, we're punk, but don't call us Christian-punk" motto. But the band is far outnumbered on the Warped roster by anti-everything political agitators and playfully profane Blink-182 imitators. Still, bassist and singer Nick Pick (almost his real name; the surname extends to "Pickrell") says he'd rather add good clean fun to a Warped experience than bask in an all-day lovefest with like-minded artists.

"A lot of those bands get comfortable playing to their own people, but there's no ministry involved," Pick says. As an example of true missionary musicians, he points to P.O.D., who brought a brief ray of positivity to the spiritually (and creatively) bankrupt 2000 Ozzfest. "We'd like to play a lot of mainstream venues, to go at it where people don't already know."

Most people don't know much about Gametime, even in its hometown. True, the group drew nearly 300 people to its mid-May farewell show at the New Earth Coffeehouse before embarking on its first West Coast tour, but that venue's community is fairly insular, with little advertising or promotion for its shows in the secular media. As for how a group with a modest following earned a spot on one of the summer's big-deal festivals, well, let's just say Gametime wasn't exactly invited to the party.

"We'll be playing in a booth, which isn't exactly glamorous," Pick says. "But lots of bands just set up and go. We actually got clearance from the organizers, so we'll have backstage passes and everything."

One of Gametime's members, guitarist Kyle Devlin, has big-stage experience, having spent one song as an honorary Green Day member. "We all wet ourselves when he got the chance to go up," Pick says, remembering Devlin's stint in Green Day's trademark ensemble of plucked-from-the-audience players. "[Green Day singer Billie Joe Armstrong] kissed [Devlin] on the mouth after the song was done, and then Kyle got to keep the guitar."

Though Gametime doesn't yet entrust its instruments to random fans, its live show does offer a number of crowd-pleasing elements, including a rather reckless maneuver with a Biblically inspired title. "We'll tell people to line up on two sides, and as soon as we kick it, they slam into each other as hard as they can, and the mosh ensues," Pick says. "We call it the parting of the sea." Drummer Gabe Asterd stands and even jumps while he's playing, and Devlin "actually frolics," Pick reveals. "He skips around on stage. We all make fun of him."

Gametime's debut disc is music to frolic by, a fast-moving blend of barbershop-quartet-caliber harmonies (the group has three capable singers) and complex breakdowns. The band's sound has simplified somewhat since Pick replaced Gametime's previous bassist, a more technically proficient player, and because the album features four songs with each lineup, the evolution is obvious. But even in its latest incarnation, Gametime makes room for some tight stop-and-start transitions and precise countermelodies, eschewing bubblegum punk. "I like the dirtier side of pop," Pick says. But its squeaky-clean "ah, heck" lyrics and amiable stage, er, booth presence stand out in a genre that often uses gratuitous profanity as a lure for rebellious teens.

Gametime rolls with Warped Tour for nine dates after its Kansas City stop, but several area groups will be part of the circus for one day only. Three local bands won spots on the bill through Ernie Ball's online Battle of the Bands; one of them, hardcore heavyweight Salt the Earth, was exiled to the St. Louis show on Friday, June 28. The other KC delegates are Jade Raven, providing the only estrogen of the entire event save female-fronted Tsunami Bomb, and Kingpin, which seems to have a way with battles of the band, having topped Jim Kilroy's inaugural Club Wars.

"I don't know what made us stand out to the judges," admits guitarist James Watkins, who compares his group's sound to the funk/punk/reggae hybrid favored by 2001 Warped attractions 311. "All we try to do is make music that we would listen to in the car or at home, and hopefully someone else will enjoy it too."

Currently working on a demo with free studio time that it received as part of its Club Wars prize package, Kingpin is hoping to score some gigs at large (albeit not Verizon-size) venues such as the Uptown Theater later this summer. It's also planning to play some more multiband affairs, such as a Club Wars "preseason" gig with Bent and Trip Hazzard on July 13 at Just Another Dive. "Festivals and battles are great because they put you in front of a lot of people that would normally not be at your show," Watkins says. "Battles create a lot of tension between bands, but I think that's because some people can't handle losing. Believe me, I hate losing as much as anybody, but you can't win every time, and even if you could, would you really want to? It would just take away from the whole point of the thing."